


Almost Lover

by LovelyLola0



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom!Harry, Emotional, Harry's seriously in love, I'm so sorry, M/M, Pseudopoetic mess (?), Sad, Short Story, Top!Severus, angsty, kinda confusing maybe?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 13:36:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16913838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLola0/pseuds/LovelyLola0
Summary: His breath came in short gasps and for a moment he swore the flames burning the wood in the fireplace next to him were painting an idyllic picture on the ivory white canvas that was his skin; intertwining with his bones and filling his blood with almost unbearable pleasure.He could not remember how it’d started. The thought of having lived the past years at Hogwarts without looking at him, kissing him, loving him seemed strange, unnatural."Look at me"





	Almost Lover

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear reader.  
> This is my first time writing a fanfiction in english. It's not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes I might've made.  
> Let me warn you that this is a kind of sad - and confusing, maybe - story, so grab your blankets and proceed with caution.  
> If you liked it, comment down below. I would love to read your opinion on it. If you didn't, please give me constructive criticism, it'd be great to see what I did wrong and try to do better next time.  
> Hope you enjoy it!

Harry’s head spun swiftly in delicious circles as he felt the body on top of him move slow and gracefully. His breath came in short gasps and for a moment he swore the flames burning the wood in the fireplace next to him were painting an idyllic picture on the ivory white canvas that was his skin; intertwining with his bones and filling his blood with almost unbearable pleasure.  
He could not remember how it’d started. The thought of having lived the past years at Hogwarts without looking at him, kissing him, loving him seemed strange, unnatural.  
But.  
He could not even imagine himself letting him know that. He would despise him; laugh at him for being such a stupid boy. A typical teenaged boy that expected too much when, in reality, there was nothing to receive expect a good, intense fuck.  
Oftentimes, Harry’s friends and colleagues complimented him for his bravery and boldness and he had even thought of himself as an audacious man. That is, until this happened. Harry wasn’t sure his Gryffindor bravery and spirit were so great after all.

  
The sight of stars blurring his vision interrupted his thoughts. He was so close, so close he could almost grasp the feeling with his bare hands. He squinted his eyes at the intensity of it.

  
“Look at me” the man above him growled. He complied and _oh Merlin_ , he could stare into those deep brown eyes for an eternity and he’d never dare to let go.

  
Pleasure cracked in his veins like a bullet through thin paper. His heart rate so quick he felt he could die at any moment; endless moans coming out of his mouth — it was so much, almost too much and he saw nothing but those beautiful brown eyes as he came undone, collapsing against the sheets in exhaustion, the man above him coming right after him.  
They stayed quiet for a few moments, trying to regain their breath. Harry stared at the sweaty body beside him, attempting to burn the sight into his eyes so that he would never forget — as if it were possible. The man beside him was not pretty. No, not in the slightest. His face carried the marks of the years that passed him by; he looked older than he was. He was a picture of decay. Of exhaustion and hurt. Nonetheless, Harry thought him beautiful. An otherworldly artwork painted by the hands of a twisted yet exquisite deity of some kind.

  
“Leave” the man said in a detached, weary way.

  
Harry lowered his eyes in pain. He would sell his soul to Death herself if it meant having him love him back, but he knew that feeling would never be reciprocated. He dressed himself in silence, looking at the man one last time before he left.  
“Goodnight” he murmured.  
The door shut silently, and behind it laid a torn Severus Snape, furious at himself as he felt his heart palpitate at the thought of seeing Harry again the next day — _if he'll even come back_ , he thought.

  
“Please come back” Severus whispered, brokenly touching his lips with two shaky fingers.

 

* * *

 

Harry sobbed wildly while he took his head out of the Pensieve. The body of his almost-lover miles away from him. He thrashed on the floor, hoping, begging the Gods above to let him go back just one more time and say the unspoken words that haunted him for so long and would haunt him until the end of his days.

“I wish I could”


End file.
